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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143178">the body always betrays itself</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/eclipsed'>eclipsed (lucitae)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cock Piercing, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Tongue Piercing, alternative universe, diverges from hq canon post hs, models au, porn with some feelings, that's it. that's literally the fic, you get a piercing! and you get a piercing! everyone gets a piercing!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:27:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/eclipsed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(The body always betrays itself—it blushes, it trembles<a href="http://sporkpress.com/1_2/pieces/Editor.htm">...</a>)</p>
</blockquote>Akira’s gaze shifts from one to another, then presses his thumb against Tobio’s chin.<p>“Do you want a taste?”</p><p>Tobio sinks to his knees as a reply.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira/Tsukishima Kei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the body always betrays itself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal/gifts">fatal</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>With love. <a href="https://twitter.com/panicbone_/status/1282110666631983104?s=21">☾</a><br/><a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EcuaxrYUwAIwBEI?format=jpg&amp;name=900x900">☾</a> <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EcuaxrdUYAE0eHQ?format=jpg&amp;name=900x900">☾</a> <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EcuaxrYUcAAux0U?format=jpg&amp;name=small">☾</a></p><p>elo made a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0a8k9Hbqvmtww3nvIgyI1r?si=iE01Z5AtQ8-0e2uMSElHRA">playlist</a> for this fic!! pls check it out!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Oh, the body—its hungers, needs, and limitations. You look at somebody and you realize that they’re there, inside there, somewhere, and how will you ever reach them, understand them?</p>
</blockquote><p>Richard Siken, <a href="http://sporkpress.com/1_2/pieces/Editor.htm">Love From a Distance</a></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It begins at an afterparty in the heart of Shibuya to celebrate a successful wrap on the S/S collection. Cigarette smoke swirls in a way that causes the luminescent lights to dance. Bodies sway in accordance to the bass, barely supported by the eleven centimeter heels and the arms of equally intoxicated colleagues. Rumors of two male models receiving invitations to the potential of a full fashion circuit resounds in the back of Tobio’s mind. It’s not hard to see why. The lights that illuminate the catwalk is still fresh in Tobio’s memory. The looks of confidence in the absurdity that swathes their frame. The ease at which they draw breaths from the crowd. One of them reminds Tobio of summer nights, specks of light akin to stars in darkness, and the dance of fireflies he can’t look away from. The other, a flame: spectators morph into moths unable to turn away.</p><p>Tobio’s eyes skim across the room of undulating bodies, of asinine flatter, of smiles and laughter that ring empty — until it lands on what he seeks. The familiarity of those faces rises like bile, bittering the elderflower cordial in his gin.</p><p>The one who sports an undercut skims his index finger across the inner wrist of Tobio’s ex. Purposeful, poised. Holding Tobio’s gaze as he leans forward to whisper into the ear of the one with glasses.</p><p>Someone walks past Tobio. Ghosts against his ear. A shiver down his spine. His pant sleeve creases under the strain of his fingers. Tobio brushes the red of the blonde man’s ear as a trick of light.</p><p>They part. The man with the undercut makes his way towards Tobio.</p><p>Tobio has come in contact with this industry long enough to read in between the lines. Knows how hands linger for a fraction of a second too long holds meaning. Has to. Because they are stripped bare before each show and weighed down by the accessories designers pick out. There is no room for materials of matching proof.</p><p>He still holds Tobio’s gaze. The sea of humans between them parts easily as if under a spell and Tobio feels fourteen again. Under the sole shade on the rooftop where the harsh rays of noon cannot touch: he presents his first kiss like an offering and learns how soft Kunimi Akira’s lips can be.</p><p>Akira’s stud embedded in his left supra-alar crease glints blue under the lights, akin to the color reflected when Tobio looks in a mirror. It looks like one of those Swarovski crystals popularly used in fabrics a few years back. The silver chain that dangles between the helix and the lobe of his ear catches Tobio’s eyes. It suits him. In a way that makes him look both ethereal and unholy at the same time. </p><p>Tobio taps his finger against the glass of his drink, trying to even the pace of his breaths with the slow methodical hits. The water coating the exterior condenses into a single droplet and runs down the side of his glass. Akira’s lips are curled into a smile. Tobio’s mouth grows dry and he loses count entirely.</p><p>Akira’s elbow rests lightly against the counter, centimeters away from Tobio’s glass. There are, perhaps, many things Tobio could say. But his mind draws blank.</p><p>“Kei and I—” Tobio hates the way his ex’s name sounds on Akira’s tongue, like he’s made a home out of it, like there’s no room left for Tobio.</p><p>“We’re thinking of leaving,” Akira says, “if you would like to join us.”</p><p>Tobio has been in this industry long enough to know what that means.</p><p>Akira must have noticed. His fingers are cool against Tobio’s knuckles. Even after all these years his face still betrays him, Tobio thinks bitterly.</p><p>Tobio wants to say no. Wants to point out the ways in which this isn’t right, clinging to the last vestiges of societal norms because this marks the point of no return. But Akira drops forward, echoing what he had done to Kei before he had ventured here. </p><p>“You don’t need some grand reason to desire something, right?” breath hot against the shell of Tobio’s ear. Tobio shivers.</p><p>The shadow that falls across him doesn’t ease up when Akira pulls away. Tobio looks up and into his reflection in Tsukishima Kei’s glasses. There’s an ache in his chest the way his grandpa’s bones used to whinge at the hint of rain. Except for Tobio, it’s tucked behind the sternum and associated with the end of spring.</p><p class="p1">“What’s taking you so long, your majesty?”</p><p class="p1">It’s familiar. And not.</p><p class="p1">The man before him looks like Kei, talks like Kei, says <em>your majesty</em> the same way Kei used to with his lips curling around that phrase in the semblance of a sneer. Except, in the center of his tongue lies a pearl.</p><p class="p1">Tobio knows it is not a pearl. It is made of metal, probably done in the same place Akira’s piercings were. But it looks like a pearl in the cave of Kei’s mouth. Like something precious. Like an organism that has coated layers upon layers around a speck of sand until you can’t feel it scrape against you anymore. Like an old memory you’ve gotten over.</p><p class="p1">Is this what they have come to? Remnants of old flames long petered out. Just ashes of irritants left behind.</p><p class="p1">He looks between them.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>You don’t need some grand reason to desire something.</em>
</p><p>Tobio wonders what Kei tastes like now compared to when they were seventeen. And how it feels to be laid bare before Akira.</p><p>He knocks back the last of drink and says “let’s get out of here,” pushing past the crowd under the influence of a cocktail of drugs. Akira and Kei trail behind him.</p><p>They wind up in Tsukishima Kei’s apartment where it is devoid of any traces of Kunimi Akira.</p><p>How very like them.</p><p>So maybe Tobio gets some answers. Kei tastes like kahlua and milk for starters. Akira’s gaze makes you feel like you’re the only one that matters ( even when they are still fully clothed and yours are lost somewhere between the front door and the edge of the bed ).</p><p>As Tobio drinks in smoke from Akira’s lungs, his mind reminds him of the ways in which Akira and Kei are familiar and unfamiliar to him. The years between then and now and how he’ll never catch up in time. That the smile that was never directed towards you to begin with, will never fall in your direction. But who fucking cares? He has until sunrise to learn the differences.</p><p>( There are two pairs of hands on your body. Your jaw aches but not as strongly as your heart. )</p><p>( They say the first thing you forget about someone is their voice. Did they ever look at you like this before? )</p><p>( What do they see when they look at you? A physical manifestation of desire? Another warm body to spice the night? Or are you just Kageyama Tobio? Not a setter, not a division one volleyball player. Just a boy guarding his heart and failing. Because you would cough it up if they asked you to. Feed it to a fading star just to keep this burning a little longer. )</p><p class="p1">( Maybe you say <em>Akira</em> and it sounds like the last thing in Pandora’s box, after all the horrors are unleashed.<br/>
  Maybe <em>Kei</em> spills from your lips and it’s carried away by Zephyrus as your skull splits open. )</p><p>( You wake at the crack of dawn, to the blinking red of the clock. Fear creeps up and coils around your heart. That the spaces next to you are empty and sheets cold. )</p><p>“Go back to sleep,” Kei grumbles. It sounds exasperated, sleep laden, with no intent to budge. A large hand comes to cover Tobio’s eyes. He can still feel the even pace of Akira’s breath on his chest. It feels far too realistic for a dream.</p><p>Tobio drifts back off to sleep and wakes entangled in warmth.</p><p>That was half a year ago.</p><p>He’s still learning.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p class="p1">“You keep looking at it,” Akira says, leaning in so the 2mm blue diamond set in 14k white gold Tobio had bought for him the other day comes in full view. “Do you want one?”</p><p class="p1">He says it in a way that incites a curl deep and low in the pits of Tobio’s abdomen. He thinks about desire. Thinks about the subtle connection between the other two — hidden and unhidden.</p><p class="p1">The answer is an easy one.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Tobio exhales.</p><p class="p1">“Hmm,” Akira hums under his breath. Finger touches the side of Tobio’s nose, trailing down until it traces the line of his jaw, changing course when it meets the angle of the mandible, following down the path of the carotid, brushing past the point where the collar bone meets the sternum, and halts at the outline of his left pec. It is one of the muscles he’s been working on in the gym with Kei. Kei frequents the gym in preparation for his next show after the positive reviews from being chosen to display Saint Laurent’s more gender fluid designs. Tobio because he’s seen the way Akira looks at Kei after a shower where a stray bead of water slides down the midline and disappears in the tuft of hair around his navel. But if anyone asks, it’s for better blocking. Setters do have to block after all.</p><p class="p1">Akira becomes the devil on his shoulder, shifting to stand behind Tobio, that same finger draws along the lower border, before raking against his nipple. Tobio jolts and looks straight ahead. His reflection in the wall length mirror stares back.</p><p class="p1">Akira draws slow circles around the edge where the darker shade ends and the lighter one begins. “How about here?” he says. Akira holds Tobio’s gaze through the mirror. Tobio watches the way his nipples perk up under Akira’s ministrations.</p><p class="p1">He opens his mouth, about to say something, and notices Kei to the side. He looks observational, as impassive as always, but his eyes are as dark as Akira’s.</p><p class="p1">Tobio knows his answer before he even says it.</p><p class="p1">“Sure.”</p><p class="p1">Gaze returning to meet Akira’s: “but only if you do it too.”</p><p class="p1">A curl of Akira’s lips is an answer.</p><p class="p1">“I’ll do it,” Akira says with a small nod. “Just not there.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ve always been thinking about...” Akira splays his entire hand against Tobio’s skin and runs south until they slip past the elastic rim of his briefs and curl around his cock. “Getting one here.” Akira’s thumb against the ridge, measuring the circumference. It is impossible to not be aroused by that thought alone.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p class="p1">It hurts. How could it not? One on each side ; one for each of the hands he wishes to hold. A nine month recovery <em>minimum</em>, rendering getting it done during his off season moot.</p><p class="p1">He messes up the timing of his serve — something he hasn’t done in years — and what was supposed to be a no touch service ace lands out of bounds when the barbell catches against his shirt.</p><p class="p1">Tobio doesn’t need to look up to know the expression Akira and Kei wears. ( He does anyway. Knows exactly where their seats are because he acquired the tickets. )</p><p class="p1">It’s the first game of the season. There is no such thing as taking it slow and peaking later in Tobio’s dictionary. Hunger demands for every point he can sink his teeth into. The Dri-FIT tee underneath the white Adlers jersey help obscure how painfully erect his nipples are.</p><p class="p1">He lunges under the ball, ten fingers to set it in a nice high arc, pushing through the heightened sensitivity. The scoreboard blinks and adds a point under their name. Tobio smiles.</p><p class="p1">The game continues like so. The weight of their gazes heavier and heavier. Burns through him.</p><p class="p1">He tosses the ball, jumps, and swings through that twinge. It lands in between the seams of two players on the opposite court.</p><p class="p1">The adrenaline coursing through his veins turns that pain into pleasure.</p><p class="p1">( He doesn’t have to wait too long for more. That night he finds himself in Kei’s shower, the piercing embedded in Kei’s tongue traces the outer rim of — a safe distance away from — his right nipple. Tobio wants it to dart closer, collide against his accessories, and roll over his nub.</p><p class="p1">“Soon,” Akira whispers, chest against Tobio’s back as he fucks Tobio with three fingers.</p><p class="p1">“Soon,” Akira repeats and Tobio wonders who it is meant for as he comes. )</p><p> </p><p> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Akira is, and always has been, beautiful. Even more so when he forgoes the popular <em>Prince Albert</em> and chooses the “king’s crown.” It's intentional. Forcing Tobio to gaze in his direction as he rattles off his plan to the piercer: an ampallang &amp; apadravya with a ring of dydoes.</p><p class="p1">They celebrate the crowning a year later.</p><p class="p1">Or rather Tobio and Kei walk into Kei’s apartment to see Akira on the bed, sitting on his heels, legs spread. He’s wearing Tobio’s red national jersey and nothing else. The hem of it pulled up and precariously clutched between his teeth. One hand around his cock. A beautiful contrast of flushed pink against pale skin, but not deep enough so it stands out against the red jersey. Curved barbells form a ring around the ridge of his cock ; double As form a cross on the glans. It looks like pearls on a coronet.</p><p class="p1">It’s breathtaking.</p><p class="p1">Kei’s clutch drops to the ground with a thud.</p><p class="p1">Akira’s lids are hooded. Back arching as he flicks his wrist. Pre-cum leaks from the tip. His other hand plays with his nipple.</p><p class="p1">Tobio’s stiffens.</p><p class="p1">A few more tugs. Muffled moans from the back of his throat. They don’t move until Akira curls a finger, beckoning them closer.</p><p class="p1">Akira’s gaze shifts from one to another, then presses his thumb against Tobio’s chin.</p><p class="p1">“Do you want a taste?”</p><p class="p1">Tobio sinks to his knees as a reply.</p><p class="p1">It’s been far too long.</p><p class="p1">Similar to a vassal swearing fealty, Tobio presses his lips against the tip of Akira’s cock. He wraps his hands around the base with both hands after a coating of lube. A careful press of a piercing with the pad of a thumb and listens to the accompanied hushed noise that falls from above. And then looks up when he swirls his tongue around one of the metal beads located in the midline. Akira’s pupils are dilated, face dusted with a sheen of pink. His careful, indifferent facade crumbles in the face of desire. Tobio wonders what other expressions will he see.</p><p class="p1">He relaxes his jaw and takes Akira in.</p><p class="p1">Maybe because it’s been far too long and his memory has gone hazy, but Tobio swears the head of Akira’s cock feels wider. He guides it deeper. The weight of metal heavy on his tongue. Tobio relishes in the uneven bumps, the taste of salt, and hollows his cheeks.</p><p class="p1">Akira’s toes curl. Tobio hears a soft chuckle from Kei’s lips and decides to unravel Akira entirely. Until Akira’s fingers are gripping Tobio’s locks, until their names are an incoherent jumble on his lips, until he spills and Tobio swallows — he continues. Who cares if his mouth gets scraped a little? Who cares if his jaw aches by the end of this? It’s the sight of Akira’s back arching from the way Tobio’s drags his tongue across the circle of barbells as Kei supports his weight and the desperation in the roll of hips to chase after the warmth of Tobio’s mouth that matters.</p><p class="p1">Tobio imagines how this would feel inside him, knocking against his prostate, when Akira comes.</p><p class="p1">Kei leans forward and reaches over to wipe the stray droplets from Tobio’s face. He then licks his thumb.</p><p class="p1">“Your turn,” Akira says as he faces Kei. “I want you in me.”</p><p class="p1">Kei’s expression turns wry. “Did you steal the crown from his majesty?” he questions, tilting his head in Tobio’s direction.</p><p class="p1">The glares he receive in return don’t bother him and he pulls Akira into his lap after his garments are folded in a neat pile on the floor.</p><p class="p1">“Watch me,” Akira says in Tobio’s direction. A curl of a finger, Tobio leans in. “Add to the mess.”</p><p class="p1">So Tobio unzips and frees his cock as Kei preps Akira. There’s an edge of impatience to it. Not his usual infuriatingly slow pace. Tobio knows this is what Akira had aimed for and watches as Akira’s cock hardens. His hand around his own is set at a languid pace as he watches Akira hook his legs around Kei’s waist. His thighs are pale and smooth. Tobio thinks they would look good in the sheer black stockings Akira wore last week in Milan, under a flood of lights as he stole everyone’s attention. Or maybe red to match the jersey. Even just black thigh garters without stockings would suffice.</p><p class="p1">He picks up pace. They do too. It turns erratic.</p><p class="p1">Tobio chases after the other two and stains his old jersey after Akira paints it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Miwa calls when Tobio is in the middle of selecting a sports drink, at the Lawson seven minutes away from his apartment as a treat for his daily jog. It’s the usual notice that she has dropped by and ends with: “I don’t get why you still have you’re own place when you’re hardly there.” Tobio doesn’t expect her to understand.</p><p class="p1">It’s for the days where Kei’s apartment is empty. Where all Tobio can see are traces. The corner of the couch that Akira takes up with his phone held between both hands. Kei closing the cupboard with a slippered foot after retrieving a pot because Tobio briefly mentioned craving curry. It is for those days where the apartment starts to feel too big and wrong.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t say much. She hangs up shortly after.</p><p class="p1">A magazine catches Tobio’s eyes as he walks towards the counter to pay. Tsukishima Kei graces the cover of MEN’S NON-NO. Tobio reaches for it. Yet another one to add to his growing collection.</p><p class="p1">He pays, walks out, and looks up.</p><p class="p1">Over the years Akira’s agent has given up on coaxing him into acting. Akira used walking the runway for John Galliano as a way to demonstrate that a successful career for a model is judged independently but decided to placate his agent once. He makes his debut as a nameless commercial model for a cosmetic brand, becoming an internet sensation overnight as fans tried to find his name. The sales boost of the eyeshadow palette put Kunimi Akira on the radar.</p><p class="p1">Splashed on the billboard is Akira leaning forward with an eyeliner pen in his hand. A dust of gold in the shadow of his eyes. The female model has her eyes closed. Their side profiles stunning. His name and the female model’s are printed at the bottom corner along with the brand and the products it touts.</p><p class="p1">Tobio had snapped a picture of it the day it went up and sent it to Kei, who he’s certain also saved it to his camera roll.</p><p class="p1">Tobio thinks of how far they’ve come.</p><p class="p1">At the core they are still the same people they were years ago.</p><p class="p1">Tobio is still bad at keeping his emotions off his face, Kei is still derived from the foundation of logic built upon concrete evidence, and Akira still takes it easy as he plans two steps ahead. The fear of attachment leading to heartbreak still wounds itself like roots around their ankles, pulling them deep into the mud of a murky pond.</p><p class="p1">Except Akira slips up first. An earring gets lost in the pristine space under Kei’s name. It’s found two weeks later while wrestling Akira out of the blankets he’s bundled himself in. Akira lands to the floor with a thud, curse half formed on his tongue before his eyes land on his missing accessory.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks for keeping it safe,” Akira teases, showcasing the item.</p><p class="p1">Kei scowls but doesn’t correct Akira even though it was clearly lost under the bed.</p><p class="p1">And like a catalyst added to a slow going reaction, Akira’s old, careful habits of removing his items and taking them home become not so careful anymore. Tobio finds himself having a favorite mug, followed by Akira, and Kei relocates them to a separate cupboard so that guests won’t accidentally chance upon them. How half of Tobio’s closet is just borrowed items from Kei’s. Akira and Kei both chime in on Tobio’s sense of fashion, taking matters into their hands and dressing him from head to toe, commandeering his closet. Akira once let slip an off handed remark at how a key holder looked cute and Tobio found it next to Kei’s door a week later. That in his pocket is a spare key to Kei’s apartment and knows that Akira has an identical one in his possession.</p><p class="p1">The phone in his pocket buzzes. It’s Kei. Akira is flying in from Paris and Kei is on his way to pick him up.</p><p class="p1">“He said he misses <em>Komatsuna no Goma-Ae</em>.” Tobio can hear the feedback from the car’s speakers. “We’re running low on...”</p><p class="p1">Before Kei can finish his request, Tobio has already started to head towards the nearest grocery store.</p><p class="p1">Tobio sometimes wonders if their edges have softened over time. Or were they, like sea glass, rounded by the constant friction.</p><p class="p1">It doesn’t matter.</p><p class="p1">At the end of the day, Tobio knows more about them than he doesn’t.</p><p class="p1">At the end of the day, Tobio doesn’t need anyone else to understand. He knows what he wants best. And beyond the court, he’s found two hands to hold onto — as long as they don’t pull away.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p class="p1">Kei’s hair is soft, still silky from the conditioner. But the way Tobio’s fingers grip it is different from how he shampooed it hours ago.<br/>
( He had asked Miwa to show him a long time ago. Kei had asked him once on a whim and complained about how it felt like his scalp had been scrubbed raw. So Tobio kept returning to Miwa until he got a passing grade. )</p><p class="p1">Tobio runs his thumb across his fingers with a lock of hair in between them, before stroking his fingers along Kei’s scalp and tugging backwards so that Kei looks at him. Kei’s handsome. Always has been. Just that the arrogant jut of his chin had prevented Tobio from acknowledging it for the longest time. He still won’t say it to his face but it’s common knowledge.</p><p class="p1">“Focus, will you?” Kei demands after running his piercing against the underside of Tobio’s cock, trailing the path of a vein. Tobio hisses.</p><p class="p1">Tobio grips Kei’s hair harder.</p><p class="p1">“Then do better.”</p><p class="p1">A glint flashes in those eyes before he takes Tobio back into the warmth of his mouth.</p><p class="p1">Kei with his glasses. Because why would he bother with contacts in a comfortable environment? Kei with red tainting his skin that spreads all the way to the tip of his ears. He looks young like this, under the soft light of his bedroom.</p><p class="p1">( <em>Warm yellow</em>, Akira had selected with a bored expression, chin resting against Kei’s shoulder.<br/>
  <em>This is my apartment</em>, Kei replied but ends up installing it anyway. )</p><p class="p1">Tobio loosens his hand, running through Kei’s hair. He wants to stroke Kei’s cheek. Maybe cup his chin to soothe the ache that has probably set in at this point. Wonders if doing so will crush Kei’s pride a little. Not that Kei allows it to happen. The metal rolls the head of his cock and purposefully allowed to dig into his urethra a little. Tobio clutches hair, Kei moans around him. A curse is pulled out of Tobio as he cants his hip.</p><p class="p1">Akira who was sitting just a little behind Tobio now snakes his arms around Tobio. Chin alighting on shoulders like a bird on a wire. Cool fingers against warm skin. With his ring finger drawing a circle around Tobio’s nipple.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t you think you should praise him?” Akira says breezily, expression smug. “After all, Kei is so good at...”</p><p class="p1">He trails off as Kei silences them both with a glare.</p><p class="p1">Tobio gets the brunt of it, obviously. It’s harsh, relentless. Probably meant for barbells embedded into flesh but Tobio doesn’t have a single one on his cock.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck,” Tobio says eloquently as his head falls back. Akira adjusts his position for Tobio’s comfort. Although his finger has now moved to lightly tugging the piercing. Tobio hisses through his teeth.</p><p class="p1">Tsukishima Kei had sucked Akira off a few days before Akira flew to display haute couture in the only city that really mattered. Tobio watched what essentially amounted to worship.</p><p class="p1">( Kei who takes his time in devoting his attention to each and everyone of Akira’s piercings. The few along his glans, the ring around the ridge, and a flick to the one passing through the urethra to send nerve endings on fire as Akira descends into the madness of pleasure. Witnessing how Akira cups Kei’s face, purposefully using his thumbs to outline how Kei’s cheeks have become distorted because of him. Tobio’s nipples become painfully hard at the thought of the same attention being lavished upon them. So in retaliation, knowing full well how Kei has more than enough concentration to devote to two, rolls his hips lazily. Knows that Kei’s hands are too preoccupied by Akira to relieve himself, so he keeps his pace agonizing. That Kei will eventually grow frustrated by the intermittent nudges against his prostate, will grind back against Tobio until he releases, milking Tobio for what he’s worth. Tobio caves then, as he always does, and meets him half way. Kisses the base of Kei’s spine as a sign of devotion when Kei shudders through the high of orgasm. )</p><p class="p1">Akira’s teeth skim the edge of Tobio’s shoulder, threatening to leave marks far too close to where the collar of his jersey ends. Akira twists the barbell. Tobio thrusts into Kei’s mouth.</p><p class="p1">Kei pulls back with an obscene pop.</p><p class="p1">Tobio’s hips attempt to chase the warmth and Akira chuckles lightly.</p><p class="p1">Kei’s eyes are dark. Tobio knows that look. It’s the same one that accompanies <em>you aren’t the only one who’s thinking out there</em>. The one that wrenches control back and requests respect. Kei doesn’t so much as hold their gazes but rather demands them as he takes off his glasses, folds them, and sets them on the bed side stand.</p><p class="p1">Tobio feels the ridges of Akira’s cock brush against his back. Tobio is almost tempted to reach behind him and comfort Akira’s cock.</p><p class="p1">Akira and Kei move in unison. Kei wraps his hands around Tobio’s ankles and yanks, causing Tobio’s head to fall into Akira’s lap.</p><p class="p1">He inhales sharply the moment he feels Kei’s tongue trace around his rim, the piercing occasionally drags against his skin. Akira continues to lavish attention on Tobio’s nipples. A flick that directly descends into his cock.</p><p class="p1">Tobio doesn’t need to see to know what a mess he is. He can feel pre-cum leaking, dribbling down the sides, and wonders if makes its way to his perineum, would Kei drag the flat of his tongue against it to lap it up? Just like the way he normally swallows and—</p><p class="p1">Tobio bucks his hips pathetically into the air when Kei’s tongue slides in, all warm and hot with a nub pressing against his walls in a way that causes his synapses to short circuit.</p><p class="p1">This is how Tobio becomes undone. Under the intensity of two individuals he believed would never give him the time of day.</p><p class="p1">“Please,” he begs, barely able to string the plea together in the first place. But it’s not enough. Kei’s tongue feels like a tease of what <em>could</em> be. Doesn’t reach, doesn’t press hard enough against, that spot Tobio’s toes curl to.</p><p class="p1">“What, Tobio?” Akira asks. The hand that brushes away the strands of hair that have fallen onto Tobio’s face is a gentle one. The same pair of hands that had woven red rope around Tobio’s hands and torso in a pattern that made Kei whistle low and under his breath. The same pair of hands that had fitted a piece of cloth over Tobio’s eyes and taught Tobio how much more sensitive he could be in the absence of one of his senses. The same pair of hands that directed Tobio’s attention to the mirror as Tobio fucked himself on Kei’s cock, witnessing his desire all laid out before him. The pair of hands wrapped around a chalice, around an apple — take a sip, take a bite — and he does willingly. Who cares if god forsakes us anyway? This is his body, his prerogative.</p><p class="p1">Akira’s question is a simple one. But to Tobio it feels like a ball lobbed a little too quick and straight and not knowing if anyone will be there to spike it. It’s an old fear. One mitigated by time and thousands of examples of someone being there in time. But fears don’t entirely dislodge. He feels fourteen again, knowing that his words won’t get anywhere so why bother? Shoves it down and carries it with him.</p><p class="p1">Akira’s question is a simple one. <em>Do you trust us enough?</em> To that, to those hands that have caught him over the past few years, his answer is <em>yes</em>.</p><p class="p1">“Please Akira,” Tobio tries again. “Fuck me.”</p><p class="p1">If it’s phrased like an order, Akira doesn’t make any objections. Kei pulls out but not before dragging the flat of his tongue along Tobio’s perineum just like he imagined and oh—</p><p class="p1">Tobio clenches around emptiness. And watches as Kei stands and leans over, capturing Akira’s mouth with his. Heat rises on Tobio’s cheeks. There’s something about it that incites a deep curl, low in his stomach. Akira pries Kei’s lips apart with his tongue and tastes both Kei and Tobio. Both of their gazes fall on Tobio even as they drink each other in. Tobio draws in a shaky breath.</p><p class="p1">They part. Tobio watches the strand of connection glisten under the light and break. And perhaps if his body wasn’t a furnace at this point he would have felt it on his skin.</p><p class="p1">Akira reaches for the lube and condoms stored in the drawer of the bed side table.</p><p class="p1">Tobio swats the rubber away. What’s the point anyway? They’ve been seeing each other exclusively, done routine check ups, and have been clean since the day Akira approached him at the Tokyo Fashion Week after party.</p><p class="p1">“We fuck, we don’t make love,” Akira once said, derisively.</p><p class="p1">To Tobio, it means the same thing.</p><p class="p1">So he rises to his knees, takes the bottle of lube, and pushes Akira down. Akira’s legs dangle from the edge of the bed. He’s in top form today. Tobio pours the contents of the bottle onto Akira. His stomach has digested most of dinner.</p><p class="p1">It’s almost like he’s on court.His stomach is not quite sated, on the brink of feeling hunger. He can see exceptionally well today.</p><p class="p1">Akira’s eyes are wide in surprise. Kei has a knowing look in his, two steps behind him. Tobio can sense the moment the bed gives way to Kei’s weight and sees Akira’s cock twitch when Tobio straddles him.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t look away,” Tobio says. A rough hand against Akira’s cock as he distributes the lube. It must feel a little like revenge from the way Tobio pinches one of the baubles between his fingers. Tobio is a sore loser after all.</p><p class="p1">He lifts his hips, aligns himself, and takes as much of Akira as he can.</p><p class="p1">Tobio’s name slips from Akira’s in a hiss.</p><p class="p1">Tobio gasps. The girth the ampallang adds always results in a satisfying stretch. At this angle the apadravya kisses his prostate and Tobio’s hands are leaving imprints on Akira’s skin.</p><p class="p1">Kei reaches over to take the bottle of lube, probably to jerk himself off. Tobio frowns. It doesn’t sit well with him.</p><p class="p1">Tobio curls a hand around Kei’s wrist.</p><p class="p1">“I can take both of you,” he hisses. A tiny roll of Akira’s hips, coronet nudges against his walls, causing Tobio to lose his breath.</p><p class="p1">Kei’s lips curl. “How generous of you, your majesty.”</p><p class="p1">Tobio hates it.</p><p class="p1">“My name,” Tobio demands, “say it” again like you once did before the last sakura petal graced the ground in our third spring of high school. Like we are seventeen again, unsure of what the future holds, but certain of the next day and where our love lies.</p><p class="p1">Kei leans in. Lips brushing against Tobio’s temple as they whisper <em>Tobio</em>. The organ in his chest swells, a fire burns within his ribcage.</p><p class="p1">Kei pulls back and pours lube onto himself. Tobio lifts himself and drops back down again, head almost thrown back in bliss from the way the coldness of the metal prods against his insides. Kei slides off the bed to stand behind Tobio. Patient as he watches Tobio work himself open on Akira. The way he does when he plans far ahead to execute that one kill block in the third match of the game.</p><p class="p1">Tobio turns his head and looks behind him. Has no idea what he looks like without Kei’s glasses to reflect him. But there is hair in his face and adrenaline in his veins and he curls a finger the way Akira does — motioning Kei to come closer.</p><p class="p1">Tobio takes a shaky breath when he feels Kei’s cock press against his rim. Those sturdy fingers are splayed against his hip bones, gentle as he slowly enters Tobio. He bides his time as Tobio adjusts, taking him in centimeter by centimeter. Tobio gasps at the stretch and the way it burns. He feels incredibly full. And sated. Pride swirling in his chest as he ruts back against both of them. Their names a jumbled heap on his tongue.</p><p class="p1">Kei takes it as a cue to move. Building up a steady pace as Tobio’s head falls forward. His arms barely able to support him from crashing into Akira below. He looks down at Akira. At the sweat that has matted his hair but doesn’t detract from his beauty, at the glistening in eyes like a sprinkle of stars and Tobio wonders if he looks like that too.</p><p>Akira places his hand at the back of Tobio's neck to pull him in closer, open-mouthed, for a kiss. Tobio lets him. With a starved edge of teeth and tongue ; half saliva, half heat. <em>Tobio</em> Akira says against his lips and Tobio swallows with the desperation of a fish out of water submerged back into its environment of dissolved oxygen.</p><p>Tobio’s dick is throbbing. Pressure curled tight and low in his abdomen. Taking two of them means there’s not a moment where a cock doesn’t hit that sensitive spot inside him and Tobio shudders. Feels Kei’s breath between his shoulder blades as he curses from the way Akira’s cock slides against his in the tight warmth of Tobio.</p><p>The coil in Tobio’s abdomen grows tighter. The heat becoming almost unbearable. The pace becomes frantic. Someone angles their hips in a way that causes the metal piercing to dig into Tobio’s walls and he comes all over Akira’s chest, as he clenches around the two of them tightly. His mind a dizzy haze of lust, unable to comprehend anything but the way pleasure overflows.</p><p>Tobio rides out the orgasm. Eyes trailing the way his cum has splattered against the pink of Akira’s nipples and leans forward to lap it up. And with that, pulls the other two to follow his lead, relishing in the warm fluid that fills his insides. A soft sigh escaping him as he feels it overflow and slide out of him. </p><p>He’s made a mess with his selfishness. No one seems to mind.</p><p>Kei pulls out first and collapses into the space next to Akira. Akira nudges Tobio and extricates himself. Tobio feels even more fluid pour out and shivers at the sensation. There’s a gentle press of lips against his temple, the side Kei didn’t touch. Akira walks away and comes back with a warm towel in hand. Over the years Tobio has forgotten about Akira’s tenacity. The reserve of stamina and intensity that can outlast others at the tail end of a match.</p><p>Tobio knows Akira will brush it off as the unwillingness to feel sticky, so he doesn’t say <em>thank you</em>. Just curls a hand around his wrist and drags him to bed where they are all collapsed into a heap, unable to put up walls.</p><p>There’s no grand reason for desire. The same goes for love.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They are at an afterparty in the underbelly of Shibuya. Correction: Tobio had invited Kei and Akira to attend the championship game of the season. Which is why everyone is either drunk on victory or has that blaze of challenge lit in their eyes with the promise of <em>next time</em>. Congratulations are doled out in the form of pats to his back. Some heavy with intoxication that causes Tobio to wince a little as he tries to maintain an air of professionalism. But his eyes wander. They always do.</p><p>The lights above bathe the room in blue.</p><p>Tobio feels six again. Small hands safely enveloped in Kazuyo-san’s large and rough ones. He’s standing in front of glass that extends from the floor to the ceiling, watching the kelp sway as schools of fish dance around them. Kazuyo-san’s grin is wide as he names any of the fishes Tobio points out. When he doesn’t know, he places Tobio on his shoulders and hunts down the correct inscription. Tobio spends most of his time listening to Kazuyo-san narrate, watching how the light penetrates through tons of water and plays with Kazuyo-san’s silver hair.</p><p>Marinepia Matsushima Aquarium no longer exists. It changed its name in 2015 and relocated — a 20 minute drive south of where it used to stand.</p><p>Akira stands next to Kei, champagne glass in each hand. He stands with the effortless grace of his profession, turning heads towards his direction as he takes a sip. The stretch of skin between the end of his top and the beginning of his pants exposes his belly button. A sapphire stud would look at home there, flashes through Tobio’s mind momentarily.</p><p>The chains hang low around Kei’s hips, drawing attention to his lean figure. A blazer draped across his shoulders. He observes the crowd, impassive. Kei has an air of intimidation that surrounds him. But that doesn’t stop him from being continuously approached. No doubt from the recognition of becoming a certain magazine’s exclusively contracted model. </p><p>Tobio grabs a glass and walks towards the two of them. The girls fawning over Kei take it as a cue to leave.</p><p>Tobio’s lips curl into a smile. “I was thinking of leaving, if you would like to join me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have no idea what i'm doing except i saw <a href="https://twitter.com/shrinpus/status/1280555371153612800">this tweet</a> and said what if tsukikunikage with piercings in different places. then elo replied with piercing &amp; their assignments and here it is. if you want an image for what akira's piercing arrangement might look like + info on penis piercings, <a href="https://blog.bodyjewelry.com/just-the-tip-about-prince-albert-friends/">here</a> is the link. for more information wikipedia actually has pretty decent pages on the history of the ones mentioned in this fic.</p><p>this fic covers multiple undefined years ( &gt; 3 at least ) in their relationship. mostly because piercings in those places take almost a year to fully heal so ( not that they stop h wording in between ). anyway. yeah. and achievements in their respective fields can't be accomplished overnight.</p><p>one of kunimi's lines come from it's okay to not be okay ep 3.</p><p>this fic is just a huge thank you to elo for opening my third eye to kunikage. in turn, i hope this opens eyes of people who read this to tsukikunikage.</p><p>with special thanks to ami because this <a href="https://twitter.com/artamiest/status/1279658125122035712">one tweet</a> hasn't left my mind. and shoutout to angel for supplying me with ideas™. as always, i owe my life to elo &amp; viv for the hand holding. bless xin for beta-ing, i do not deserve you ❤</p><p>pls come yell at me on <a href="https://twitter.com/shokurensei">twitter</a>. i don't bite, i'm just shy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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